


6.12 "Denobulan Deceptions"

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Series: Warp 5 Complex Virtual Season 6 [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Virtual Season/Series, Warp 5 Complex Virtual Season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-02
Updated: 2007-03-02
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8089249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: With Enterprise at Denobula, ready to begin informal negotiations, a crisis erupts that affects someone Phlox holds dear.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Beta: Kathy Rose, Kylie Lee, Lily, miera  


* * *

Captain Jonathan Archer sighed as he hit "send," then leaned back in his chair in his ready room. Starfleet's scientists would no doubt find his report about the particle cloud interesting--but not as interesting as Starfleet Intelligence would find the implication that some kind of incursion had been made into their universe and that experimentation on humans had occurred. Malcolm Reed had had his memories taken away, and although they had mostly come back, strange gaps were still evident. Phlox was working with Reed to recover the memories. Meanwhile, because Reed was a security concern, he was on light duty. Archer wouldn't allow him in combat unless he was confident that Reed wouldn't freeze up with some kind of memory loss during a critical moment. Reed, who insisted he felt fine, had argued, but weakly: he and Archer both put the concerns of _Enterprise_ above all else.

Archer hoped that the information they'd gathered about the particle cloud would reveal some clues to what had happened. The cloud had been the aliens' way into their universe--perhaps a ship, perhaps an opening through which transport could be arranged. In any case, data was all they had to go on, because the cloud had disappeared. But it was off his desk now, at least. He'd filed his report at last; he'd waited for T'Pol to finish her scientific analysis, and he'd sent the two documents together. Let Starfleet chew on that for a while. It was time to get back to the mission at hand: to attempt to reunite the loose federation of planets friendly to each other--the federation that the attack at Alpha Centauri last year had so tragically disrupted.

"Computer, record." One more thing left to do, and then he could rejoin everyone in the mess hall. "Personal log. _Enterprise_ has been assigned to Denobula, where we are to start negotiations with the planet to reinstate ties." A rueful note crept into his voice. "We have unofficial meetings with both the unofficial Earth ambassador and the former Denobulan ambassador on Earth." When formal ties between Denobula and Earth had been cut, their respective ambassadors had left their posts. The ambassador to Denobula had had to return to Earth, but her former attachÃ© had remained behind. "Officially, we're here to let Doctor Phlox finalize his affairs, since he returned to _Enterprise_ so abruptly. He's got some loose ends to tie up. T'Pol, Trip, and I had dinner on the planet and met informally with several movers and shakers. We're holding off on actual negotiations until a Boomer delegation arrives in a few days, so meanwhile, with the permission of Denobula, I've authorized some shore leave for the crew. I've also met with Denobula's chief negotiator, Phemal. He seems very likable, but that's not uncommon among Denobulans. He even invited the senior staff to a party to celebrate the start of the return of Earth-Denobulan ties--a bit premature, but at least its shows that the Denobulans are eager to make these negotiations work. I'm hopeful we can come to some understanding with Denobula that isn't unofficial."

Archer paused, gathering his thoughts. "The Romulans have been quiet. We haven't run across them for several months now, and Starfleet has reported no activity. The Boomer network has likewise said that everything is quiet. My main worry is that an official alliance with the Denobulans will catch their attention. Earth knows that if Denobula arranges formal ties, then the Tellarites will follow." Tellarite was Denobula Triaxa's close neighbor, and although Archer personally found Tellarites pugnacious and annoying, they could be counted on to be staunch allies in a fight, with good, fast, well-armed ships. "And if the Tellarites follow, then the Andorians will come on board, because they dislike the Tellarites and would want in on any advantage they manage to negotiate." He shut his eyes, remembering the faces around the table during the failed negotiations at Alpha Centauri: Earth, Boomers, Vulcan, Andoria, Alpha Centauri, Tellar, Denobula Triaxa. Of the alien worlds, only Vulcan had stood firm with Earth against the Romulans. "What we do over the next week or so on Denobula could reforge the alliances that broke during the attack. It might redeem the deaths of the negotiators." He thought of Alora, Phlox's first wife, and her husband, Card. He hoped Earth was right, and that their negotiations here would snowball.

"Meanwhile," Archer continued, "we've got guests on board ship, and I'd better rejoin them. End personal log." He rose and left the ready room, the light switching off behind him automatically. He'd had to leave the party to finish up his paperwork, because he'd seen the itinerary Sato had presented him: breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow were all booked, and he had tours arranged of a museum, an aviary, and a school. Down time wasn't on the list. The actual negotiations, even if they had to be informal, would be a relief: at least he'd be in the same place for more than an hour.

He headed for the mess, where Chef and his team had thrown together a quick soiree on less than two hours' notice. He'd been on edge ever since _Enterprise_ had arrived yesterday, because traveling around space, although it of course had its inherent risks, was far less dangerous than sitting in orbit around a planet on a spurious mission. Archer knew better: they weren't fooling anybody, and when the Boomers arrived, it would be even more obvious, even though the Boomers had broken away from Earth and formed an autonomous political entity after the Alpha Centauri attacks. Somehow, they'd come full circle: the negotiations that should have happened on Alpha Centauri would now occur now, on Denobula, if everything went to plan.

Of course, Archer thought ruefully, things rarely went to plan.

"Cap'n!" Commander Trip Tucker called as Archer entered the mess. "That took you a while." He indicated the buffet table. "The little pie things are almost gone."

"Paperwork," Archer said, earning a grin from Tucker, who stood in a loose circle with two Denobulan women and Malcolm Reed. Archer found he couldn't remember who the women were, although both were striking. He greeted them automatically. He really needed to get some sleep. But first, he had to mingle. "Excuse me--I think I see Phemal."

He made a quick stop at the buffet, which looked sadly picked over, and set a few savory items on a small plate. The sweet items were mostly gone, the lemon meringue pie just a smear of yellow in an empty pie plate. Of course there was lemon meringue pie: Chef knew that Phlox's Denobulan sense of taste loved the combination of sweet and tart.

"Ah, Captain," Phemal said as Archer joined them. "I was just telling T'Pol how kind of you it was to have us over on such short notice. The tour was most delightful, and the food! Lovely."

"Chef would have been more than happy to try out some Denobulan dishes," Archer responded. "I know Doctor Phlox has requested Denobulan food in the past."

"Not at all," Phemal assured him, flicking the notion of Denobulan food aside with a gesture of his fingertips. "We all far prefer to try new tastes. Before she left, your Hoshi Sato was telling us of the notion of balance of tastes of food, which her culture espouses. Such a wonderful philosophy! I'm quite taken with it. In the capital city, we have one Earth restaurant, but it is Mexican. One starts to think it is representative of all of Earth, but of course that is not the case."

Archer's lips twitched at the idea of a Mexican restaurant in Denobula--for some reason, it struck him as absurd.

"Do you like Mexican food?" Phemal asked very seriously as one of the women who had been talking to Tucker and Reed joined them, her rustling dress managing to be simultaneously diaphanous and revealing. "Are you perhaps Mexican?"

"I like Mexican food very much," Archer said as the woman took Phemal's arm. "But no, I'm not Mexican."

"My second wife, Serana." Phemal gestured at her with his empty plate. "Serana, this is the captain--I think I saw you speaking with him a moment ago when he came in."

"Captain." Serana inclined her head politely. Her voice was low and musical.

"A pleasure to meet you." Archer nodded at her, although a bow would have seemed more appropriate to such a patrician beauty.

"We were just talking about Mexican food," Phemal told her.

"Of course--Garcia's, in the high street." Serana immediately knew what Phemal was referring to. "They have these wonderful crispy things in baskets--I can't think of what they're called. I adore them. They are delightfully crunchy."

"Tortilla chips," T'Pol said neutrally, and not for the first time, Archer wondered what she thought of small talk.

Serana brightened. "Yes! Tortilla chips. That's it exactly." She turned to Phemal. "Dear, I hate to take you away, but I've just heard from the shuttle, and they have managed clearance. They are ready for us."

Phemal frowned. "Alas! Captain, we must depart." He looked at his plate, at a loss for a moment. Without comment, Archer took it from him and stacked it under his own. "Thank you." He extended his hand to Archer, and they shook hands briskly. "I shake your hand." He turned to T'Pol next. "But I do not shake yours, Commander! Instead, I bow." He bowed, and T'Pol bowed back.

"I'm sorry I couldn't chat with you more tonight." Archer fell into step with Phemal as he and Serana headed for the door.

"Duty calls, duty calls," Phemal sighed. "How well I understand it! Don't worry, I shall see you again tomorrow. Many thanks again for your hospitality. Come, dear."

Archer saw them into the custody of a security crewman who would escort them to the airlock. As Archer finally gulped down his now-cold tidbits, Tucker sidled up. "Denobulan women," he sighed, and Archer nodded understandingly. They certainly tended to be beautiful. "Serana sure is something."

"She'll be at the negotiations," Archer said.

"Really? She didn't mention that." Tucker plucked a cracker from Archer's plate and nibbled.

"She's also Phemal's second wife."

Tucker considered the cracker. "She didn't mention that either," he said sadly.

"Can I put you down for shore leave?" Archer teased. He knew the answer. Ever since Phlox's second wife, Feezal, had made a play for Tucker, Tucker tended to shy away from Denobulan women. The complex and polygamous nature of Denobulan family relationships were too far off from Tucker's worldview. They made him nervous.

"Nope." Tucker popped the cracker in his mouth. "Work," he said indistinctly.

Archer clapped Tucker on the shoulder. "I'll expect you at those dinner parties, though. In dress uniform. No engineering emergencies allowed."

"Aye, Cap'n." Tucker saluted. "As ordered, sir."

* * *

Phlox stood in front of the door to his third wife's apartment. He hadn't seen her in a few months, since he'd left Denobula so abruptly, and she hadn't been very happy with him when he'd spoken with her over subspace, because he'd had to deliver news that she did not like. And Hylea had no compunction about shouting at him and using some quite unforgivable language. He cast a longing gaze down the hallway: to return to his own apartment in the family complex, he needed only take the elevator down two flights.

"Dear, dear," he muttered to himself. He was behaving like a child. He loved Hylea, of course--who could not, with her absurd sense of humor and her lovely singing voice? He'd skipped the get-together in the mess hall for this visit. Not for the first time, he wished Feezal were on Denobula, but she was offworld at the moment. Feezal had always known just how to manage Hylea. He held up his fist, ready to knock, and then lowered it. For reasons he preferred not to articulate, he hadn't told her he planned to drop by. Perhaps she wasn't home. But he wouldn't know unless he knocked. It was too late to go back up to the ship, after all; he couldn't get clearance this late anyway, and all the food would be gone. He hoped that Phemal had tried the lemon meringue pie.

He might as well get it over with. Then he could return to his apartment and linger in comfortable, familiar--and above all, quiet--surroundings. He could even listen to music--perhaps a recording of Hylea's singing, since he was thinking of her. Perhaps he could focus on how much he loved her singing, because instead, his mind kept returning to the fact that Hylea was a former Denobulan martial arts champion. She could take him down with a flip of her little finger.

Phlox took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and knocked. There was a long pause, and Phlox strained his ears, listening for footsteps running to the door. But he heard nothing. He was just trying to decide whether he should try again or just go, because she was clearly out, when the door opened. But it wasn't Hylea who stood there.

Phlox stood in the doorway, stunned. He blinked, just to make sure he was seeing correctly. There stood the daughter of Hylea and her third husband, the young woman whom Phlox loved like his own daughter.

"Berina?" he asked.

Berina, clearly as stunned as he was, recovered first. "What are you doing here, Phlox-ix?" she demanded excitedly, adding the Denobulan term of respect and endearment to his name. "It's wonderful to see you!"

"I might ask the same of you," Phlox said as she grabbed him and gave him a big Earth-style hug. " _Enterprise_ has come to Denobula to start negotiations with us. How did you get here? I though you were on Earth, getting ready to study medicine through the Interspecies Medical  
Exchange."

"Come in, Phlox-ix. I will tell you everything." She pulled him inside. "But I'm sure you came to see Mother. She's in the study."

Phlox followed her to the study, where Hylea sat in a padded chair, reading. She looked up in surprise as Berina led Phlox to the couch. Berina pulled Phlox onto the couch next to her. "Mother, Phlox-ix has come to see you! You see, I was right--someone was at the door." She turned to Phlox. "We weren't sure we'd heard the knock, you see."

"I see," Phlox said weakly as Hylea tossed her personal information device, or PID, onto the table. "Hylea," he managed. "It's so nice to see you again."

Hylea's voice was tart. "I'm sure. Because last time we spoke, you had just told me that Berina was on her way to Earth on a Kreetassan freighter."

"Mother," Berina said warningly.

"Darling, it just didn't sound... _safe._ "

"Both of you worry too much." Berina looked from one to the other. "You shouldn't argue about me. I'm entirely capable of taking care of myself. I am an adult, you know. And Mother, you mustn't be angry with Phlox merely because he told you news you didn't want to hear. I was perfectly safe, and I had a wonderful time on board the Kreetassan ship. And didn't I call you the second I got to Earth?"

"You did," Hylea allowed.

"But you didn't call me the second you _left_ Earth," Phlox pointed out.

"Oh, I'm going right back," Berina assured him. "The Interspecies Medical Exchange office on Earth wouldn't take me, even with your letter, because I was applying after Denobula had broken off ties with Earth."

"I didn't realize that," Phlox said, concerned. He'd contacted a colleague at the IME, who'd been confident that Berina, with her excellent qualifications, would find a place, and he'd sent a letter of support to the IME's director, with whom Phlox was acquainted.

Berina shrugged. "I had to apply through a different office. It's just paperwork and logistics. They suggested I apply from Alpha Centauri, which is close to Earth, because Denobula still has diplomatic ties, but..." She hesitated. "I didn't want to go to Alpha Centauri."

Phlox patted her hand understandingly. He himself planned never to set foot on that planet again, because the memory of his first wife, Alora's, death there was too painful.

"But Mother was keen to have me come home, so after she _promised_ that I wouldn't have to do any more Unveiling things, I decided to apply to the IME through Denobula, and so here I am!" She bounced a little. Her Unveiling, which marked her move to adulthood, had not gone well. Berina felt uncomfortable with the pageantry and endless parties, and unlike most Denobulans, she wasn't gregarious. She preferred to be alone, and she preferred having a small circle of intimates rather than a large circle of acquaintances.

"I had rather hoped that Berina would decide to continue her studies here on Denobula Triaxa," Hylea confessed.

Berina frowned, her beautiful forehead creasing. "But I really would much prefer to study xenomedicine," she pointed out. "And you would understand why, Mother, if you could have worked as I did with the injured Kreetassan. Such an interesting species! Their circulatory systems are just--well, the only word I can think of is 'bizarre.'" She beamed. "And of course the IME would train me much better for that, and I'm keen to travel. It's really a perfect fit."

"I'm afraid she's only come home to prepare me for her leaving again," Hylea sighed. "She must take after you, Phlox, for all that there's no blood relationship."

"I am pleased you think so," Berina said loyally. "Phlox, I didn't know you were coming. Your apartment hasn't been cleaned and aired."

"It will be so nice to be home that I will not notice dust," Phlox returned. He dropped his voice, as if to whisper so Hylea couldn't hear, although of course she could. "How did your mother take your desire to skip the rest of the Unveiling?"

Berina's eyes sparkled, and she cast a sidelong look at her mother, who looked annoyed. "Not well, but leaving Denobula altogether convinced her I was serious."

"As well it might," Phlox murmured.

"We have compromised. The Unveiling season was over last month, but I promised I would go out once a week, season or not, the whole time I'm home."

"Excellent!" Phlox said. He noted that Berina had conveniently been gone during the height of the season.

"It is far more manageable for me. Although once a month would be better."

Hylea pursed her lips. "Certainly not. You deserve more fun than that! And you're not here long." Just as Phlox was mentally contrasting Hylea's and Berina's ideas of fun, Hylea rose and extended a hand to Phlox. "Come, dear. You should greet me properly."

Phlox stood and embraced Hylea, glad that she didn't seem angry. At least she wasn't shouting at him. And it did seem as if she had come to realize that Berina's temperament didn't match hers. Berina was Hylea's only daughter, and Phlox understood Hylea's desire to see her properly Unveiled. Well, the sooner Hylea stopped trying to relive life events through Berina, the better, in Phlox's opinion.

"Come, tell us everything," Hylea ordered. "How long can you stay?"

* * *

"Hmm," Archer said, trying to imbue the sound with meaning. He wasn't sure what to say: "beautiful" seemed the wrong word choice. He settled for, "Interesting."

"Isn't it?" the museum's docent said enthusiastically.

"What is it?" Reed asked doubtfully as Archer discreetly took a look at the screen beside the artifact, but he couldn't read Denobulan. It didn't have any helpful pictures, either.

"Well, we're not sure," the docent admitted. "It was found with household goods, so it's likely some kind of everyday tool. It's my favorite piece because of the way it flares, right there. See?"

Archer looked. He had to admit that the flare was unexpected. "It might be for digging," he suggested. "Or that hollow part might work for scraping."

"But then it wouldn't be a household item, it would be a gardening or farming implement," Reed argued. "Maybe it's a toy. Although it seems rather fragile. Perhaps it was sturdier before it was buried and then dug back up."

"We think that strings or cord were pulled through the holes." The docent pointed.

"Maybe a thing you toss?" Reed suggested, making a swinging movement above his head and pretending to let it go. "Or...a musical instrument?"

"It is a puzzle." The docent sounded happy. "I am always amazed when I look at the objects. Many make sense--pots, cups, cosmetics, door locks, defecation pots, earrings."

Archer stifled a grin at her list.

"But the objects in this gallery are only six thousand years old," the docent continued. "Yet we do not remember the purpose of many of them. How could we forget so quickly?"

"Quickly indeed," Reed muttered.

"You have museums on Earth, yes?" the docent asked brightly.

"Yes, they're a lot like this." Archer straightened. "But I've been to one planet that has immersive displays. Instead of everything being taken out and labeled, like here, they re-create the site. Very interesting for archaeology."

The docent cocked her head. "A wonderful idea! Although it sounds expensive."

"Captain!" a familiar voice called, and Archer turned to greet Phlox. "Hoshi told me you'd be here," Phlox continued. "Look who's on Denobula!"

He stepped aside, revealing Berina, his honored daughter. She extended her hands and exclaimed, "Captain! It's wonderful to see you again!"

"Berina!" Archer took her hands. "What are you doing on Denobula?"

"It's a long story. Hello, Lieutenant Reed." Berina nodded to Reed next. "Your hair is quite different--short. I like it."

Reed, a little skittish, simply smiled and nodded, and she turned to Tucker next. As the two of them chatted, Phlox said to Archer, "Berina had some troubles getting into the IME through Earth because of the problems with relations between our planets."

"You should bring her to the dinner tonight," Archer suggested.

Phlox smiled. "I'm afraid Berina already has plans. I could bring her mother, my third wife, Hylea, if you don't mind. I think Hylea would enjoy herself, and I'm sure I can convince her to come."

"Of course. I'd love to meet her."

"Haven't you met her? I thought you had."

"Only over the viewscreen." Archer hesitated. "She wasn't at her best."

Phlox grimaced, clearly remembering, as Archer did, her reaction to Phlox's call, when he'd told her that Berina had taken passage on a Kreetassan ship to head for Earth. Berina's defection had come as a complete shock to her. "I assure you, she really is delightful. Formidable. But delightful."

"I'm sure," Archer murmured, turning as another docent rushed in. "What now?"

"The Earth party?" the docent gasped.

"Yes," Archer called, and she hurried up, hands nervously working the lavender overrobe that marked her station.

"Something quite awful has happened and I think you'd better see it," she said. "Can you follow me? Through here."

The _Enterprise_ crew members trooped after her. T'Pol, Tucker, and the communications officer, Hoshi Sato, all of whom had been looking at pottery in another gallery, trailed behind them, as did a number of other Denobulans, some docents and some, Archer suspected, just curious museum-goers, including children.

"It's on the news," the docent said. Archer resisted the urge to question her; she was clearly agitated. "There's a screen in this office. Oh, sorry, let me go first. I have a key."

Archer exchanged a worried glance with Tucker as the docent threw the door open, and they all entered an office. The docent turned on a large screen attached to a wall, then tuned it.

Tucker bumped against Archer as he moved to get a better view. On the screen was a Denobulan man, clad all in black, with sleek blond hair. To Archer's eyes, he looked very young--no older than Berina.

"It's just started again--they're looping it," the docent said, just as the man on the screen spoke: "People of Denobula. I am Teroin, leader of the Sons of Denobula. We are a group of people dedicated to the survival and protection of the Denobulan homeworld, its people, and its way of life. For the past few years, we have worked in secret to preserve our culture, but the time for secrecy is over. We have watched for too long as the government destroys us, little by little. We, the Sons of Denobula, will stand for it no longer.

"I am standing in the Office of Offworld Affairs. I have taken twenty hostages. They will die, one by one, unless our demand is met.

"We have only one demand. We know that the humans are here to open negotiations. You all know of the Romulans' reaction at Alpha Centauri. We will not stand by and let our people be killed because of these humans, this...inferior race. The humans and their ship have twelve hours to leave Denobulan space. If you meet our demands, we will give ourselves up. If you do not, we will have to take action.

"And just to show I am not joking about this--" He motioned with his hand to someone offscreen. Another young man manhandled a young woman, bound and gagged, next to him, and made her kneel. She turned terrified eyes to the camera's eye, and her eyes looked right into Archer's.

The man drew a weapon, placed it against her head, and fired. She fell sideways, but it was clear that she was dead. No one, Archer thought, could survive that kind of head wound. When the shot sounded, Archer jerked as though he'd been struck.

Teroin turned back to the screen. "You have until first light tomorrow to leave, or more will die."

The picture looped, and the docent muted the sound.

"I know him," Berina said tentatively into the silence.

"What?" Archer swung to face her. "Who? The man in black? Teroin?"

"No, the other man--the one who brought the woman to him." She turned back to the screen and waited. Phlox put a hand supportively on her shoulder. "There. That one." She reached forward and tapped the screen, indicating the young man in the background. "It's Kekil."

"You _know_ them?" Phlox said disbelievingly.

"Or Hermat," Berina added. "They're twins. I don't know them well. It could be either one. But I think it's Kekil. They--they took me out one night, before I left Denobula, for an Unveiling event. I wore my red dress. They brought me flowers because they knew I was interested in Earth customs. I thought they were...sweet. Except--"

"Berina?" Phlox let her bury her face in his shoulder.

"They're not sweet at all," Berina said, voice muffled. "But I didn't think they had this in them. I didn't think they were _evil._ "

"Turn it off," Archer snapped as the shot replayed, and the docent quickly darkened the screen.

* * *

"Here you go, dear."

Hylea handed Berina a mug of something hot, and Phlox exchanged a worried look with her. Berina had requested Hylea's presence when they'd moved from the museum to Phemal's nearby office. Archer, T'Pol, Tucker, and Reed sat uneasily, T'Pol perched on the edge of her seat as if any moment she would rise to her feet and take action. Phlox was glad Hylea hadn't been at the hostage scene: she would have attempted to wrestle Teroin to the ground--and likely would have succeeded, only to be shot by Teroin's compatriots.

Hylea tenderly brushed a lock of hair behind Berina's ear. "I suppose you'd better tell us what you know."

"Really not much." Berina clutched the mug. She looked pale, her eyes and hair even darker against the pallor.

Hylea sat next to Berina. "They're the sons of the woman who sells nectar fruit at Pollix market," she offered. "She's a lovely woman, and she spoke so often and so well of her sons--"

"But it's not just Kekil and Hermat," Berina said earnestly. "It's the Sons of Denobula."

"Which I, by the way, have never heard of," Phemal rumbled from his seat, which he'd dragged out from behind an impressive desk.

"Why sons?" Hylea mused. "Why not children?"

"Because daughters of Denobula would be too sensible to attempt something like this," Phlox said drily. "But do go on, Berina."

"It was a few years ago, when I was still in school. A friend of mine took me to a meeting. It was for people who felt that some of the Denobulan ways of life should be returned to its original state, with the old ways reinstated."

"Old ways?" Phemal sounded unconvinced. "Like what?"

"Before we went offworld," Berina clarified. "Before so many people started leaving. The organization wanted to reinstate the guilds, ban offworld travel--all kinds of ridiculous things. They wanted to turn in instead of looking out, to find the Denobulan soul."

"There's a Denobulan soul?" Archer asked doubtfully.

"It's one of our philosophies," Phlox explained.

"One of a very many," Hylea added.

Berina turned to Archer. "One philosopher, centuries ago, argued that if we could turn inward and concentrate our essence, we would find transcendence. I always thought he meant it on an individual level, but the Sons of Denobula were an offshoot of this philosophy that thought that transcendence could be attained on a group or species level. The name is old, Mother, which is why it isn't 'Children of Denobula.' This new group has reclaimed the ancient name."

Archer stirred. "I don't think they're really that interested in transcendence," he noted, a sentiment that echoed Phlox's thoughts. "I think they're interested in derailing negotiations. Our informal negotiations."

"Please, Captain." Phemal sounded amused. "I don't think anybody really believes that they're informal."

"You realize, of course, that this has 'Romulan plot' written all over it," Reed put in. "Doesn't this seem like something they would do?"

Archer considered. "Yes, but that brings us to the question of how they knew to be here ahead of us, when we didn't even know our own itinerary."

"We've been headed to Denobula, more or less, for a couple months," Tucker said. "That was no big secret. And it would give 'em plenty of time to set something up, set it into motion when we got here."

Reed frowned. "I haven't heard any reports of unscheduled ships or anomalies along the shipping routes out to Denobula."

Phemal rose at the sound of a quiet tap at the door. "Excuse me. I'm sure this is the report I asked my assistant to compile about these Sons."

"It could be purely local," Phlox argued, but he didn't really believe it.

"I do know one thing," Archer said grimly. "I don't like it when we show up to talk with someone, and people start getting killed."

"We can't deal with terrorists, Captain," Phemal said, scrolling through a PID. "They're irrational. Ah." His eyebrows raised. "Sons of Denobula, organization out of Foretrea's capital city, chartered four years ago, with many branch chapters, most in towns with universities. They have posted a list of what they stand for--very convenient of them."

"This should be good," Tucker murmured.

"They stand for truth, the Denobulan soul--so you were right about that, Berina--and a simpler way of life. They want to abolish offworld travel, emigration, and immigration." Phemal peered at Phlox over the PID. "Well, that would cause population problems. But I see they are all for Denobulan-only colonization, so the six colonies are safe and will not have to be evacuated, as long as no non-Denobulans are in residence." He frowned at the screen. "Really, I don't find this particularly helpful. And if it's a front for Romulan evildoing, it's even less so, because it would be purely a cover, with no actual belief in these ideals. Berina, what was your impression during the meeting?"

Berina considered. "They seemed quite serious and earnest. They really did believe that we should pull inward. I went to the meeting around the time of the elections and they supported candidates who kept resources on Denobula." She shrugged. "I just assumed they were another student political party. I thought it was more about politics than about the ideals of the Denobulan soul. But now that this has happened..." She thought for a long moment. "I suppose I could see how this--this recent action of theirs grew out of their belief that they were right to put Denobula first. First they supported inward-looking candidates and tried to change things through political means. Now they have discovered it's too slow and they're using a big event to move things along." She sighed. "I wish I could help. Maybe if I spoke to them. I'm sure Hermat and Kekil would remember me. Although I slapped Hermat, so they might not be too happy to see me."

"You'll do no such thing," Hylea ordered. "You'll come home and let Phlox and his friends deal with it."

T'Pol asked, "What will happen to the Sons of Denobula if we do as they ask?"

"Teroin killed someone," Phlox said. "We don't punish people by death on Denobula, so he would be imprisoned or exiled. But it does underscore his seriousness, because he's willing to sacrifice his future, if not his life, for his cause. As for the organization, I imagine nothing would happen."

"Nothing?" Tucker repeated, outraged.

"It wouldn't do any good, would it?" Phlox patted Berina's knee, and she smiled at him weakly over her mug. "We will punish the individuals responsible for this atrocity, of course, for taking a life."

"Do many Denobulans feel this way?" Archer asked. "Because I've met quite a few Denobulans, and what I saw on that screen strikes me as most un-Denobulan."

"Quite a few do, yes." Phemal tossed the PID onto his desk and returned to his seat. "You must remember, the Denobulans you met were offworld, so of course they would support their right to do so--as do I, of course. The stereotype of Denobulans as friendly and curious has a basis in fact, but I imagine it's much the same on Earth. You can't all be expansionist warmongers."

"No," Archer agreed. "No, we can't."

"The question is, what ought we to do." Phlox rubbed his hands together briskly, ready to take action. "Perhaps Lieutenant Reed can storm the compound and rescue the hostages."

Reed perked up, but he shook his head. "If Denobulan terrorists are like human terrorists, then they'll kill themselves and the hostages. I suggest covert action."

"Fill the whole building with some kind of sedative gas through the ventilation system," Phlox suggested.

Reed nodded. "It would knock everyone out, and we could sort them out."

"I like that one," Phemal said approvingly. "Let's do that. Captain, will you help?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Archer said soothingly. Phlox thought he looked rather desperate. "For one, two of the Sons are outside at all times--you've seen that for yourself on the screen. They wouldn't be affected by the gas. And you have to remember that this entire thing is being televised. The men will turn themselves in and the entire situation will be defused if we could figure out a way to all save face."

"We should announce that we will move the negotiations to _Enterprise,_ " T'Pol suggested. "We can move the ship several light-years away, into neutral space."

"Would that be enough?" Phlox wondered. "They seemed quite convinced that no negotiations should take place at all. Moving the venue doesn't strike me as solving the problem."

"No, I'm afraid we'll have to gas them all." Phemal looked resolute. "We can have sharpshooters take out the two men simultaneously with tranquilizer darts."

"We have weapons that stun from a distance," Reed offered.

"Even better. Oh, and we can use all Denobulan personnel, Captain, so it doesn't seem as though the warmongering humans are taking unapproved action." Archer looked annoyed--it was probably the continued use of the word _warmongering,_ Phlox thought--as Phemal turned to Phlox. "I assume you can whip up some kind of anesthetic gas?"

"Quite easily," Phlox assured him. "I'll need to return to my lab on _Enterprise,_ though."

"I'll arrange clearance." Phemal headed for his desk. "And I'll arrange to have the building's plans sent here so we can figure out a way into the ventilation system." He activated his console. "Well, I suppose that's all for now. Why don't we reconvene in two hours?"

"What just happened?" Phlox heard Tucker whisper to Archer as they all trooped out the door.

"I have no idea," Archer whispered back.

* * *

Berina pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders as she finally came to the front of the crowd outside the Office of Offworld Affairs. Cameras were bunched up to her left, the camera operators stomping their feet and blowing on their hands. Archer had recorded a brief statement saying that they were aware of the problem and weighing their options, and pleading with the Sons of Denobula to reconsider their hostile actions. It was playing over and over, as was the execution. It was odd, seeing the face of someone she knew on the screen, just as it was odd to see the grim face of Kekil--or was it Hermat?--looking nothing like the laughing boy who had brought her flowers and tried to flirt with her, but who had offended her instead.

She'd canceled her date with friends tonight. Her mother, as far as she knew, had gone to a formal dinner with Phlox, something that Archer was also supposed to attend. It was good to have the two of them getting along again. She knew her mother could be overbearing, but she meant well, which of course Phlox knew--although it was all too easy to forget. Still, it was better that Berina leave Denobula. She needed a Hylea-free space.

She pressed her lips together, realizing that if the Sons had their way, she'd be stuck on Denobula forever, with no option of leaving. She'd be trapped. She might even turn into the socialite daughter of the brilliant Hylea, the thing she feared most. That fate seemed so unlikely as long as she knew that Earth, or Kreetassa, or Tellar, or Vulcan, or any of the other planets she knew about, would welcome her. Now she knew why staying was so sweet: she had a choice. It would be awful if that choice were taken from her.

She straightened as a murmur ran through the crowd: someone had exited the Office of Offworld Affairs. As the figure handed hot drinks to the two men pacing outside, someone striving for a better view bumped into her, and Berina knocked into one of the posts holding up the temporary cordon. It clattered into the street, and suddenly it seemed that everyone on the steps of the building was looking at her.

"You. I know you," called the man who had just stepped out: Kekil.

Berina felt her face start to puff out in the telltale fear reaction, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. Before she could step back and disappear into the crowd, Kekil, finger on the trigger of his drawn weapon but the muzzle facing the ground, had jogged the few meters to her.

"Berina, right?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I--nothing," Berina stammered as he grabbed her arm. "Let me go!"

"You left for Earth," Kekil--she was sure it was Kekil--snapped. "What are you doing back?"

"I came to help," Berina responded, making a sudden decision. She had wanted to help, and she wouldn't do any good sitting at home. That was why she was here, after all--curiosity mingled with horror, and under it all, the wish to help solve the problem. But she hadn't imagined that Kekil or Hermat would see or recognize her. "My trip to Earth opened my eyes. I've come back to Denobula, obviously. And after what I've seen on the screens, what the announcers have been saying about the--about the Sons of Denobula, I want to join you. But you needn't kill the hostages."

"You came to talk us out of it?" Kekil laughed. "I don't believe you, of course. But still--I think you'd better come with me."

He pulled on her arm, his grip hard, and Berina unwillingly stepped over the thick rope that lay on the ground. "Let one go!" Berina yelled as they passed the ranks of members of the press, making sure her face was turned toward the television cameras. Her mother was not going to be happy about this. "I'll be a hostage in his place."

Kekil hustled her up the steps and through the double doors. She hadn't realized how cold it was outside until the warmth hit her. "Through here," Kekil ordered, and she stepped into what appeared to be a conference room. It was full of unhappy-looking Denobulans with bound hands, mostly seated at the conference table or on the floor. Three armed guards stood inside, and two were outside. "Pick one," he ordered, and Berina, confused, pointed at random to a matronly woman. Kekil leaned down and grabbed the rope binding the woman's hands. "Up," he said, ignoring her squeak of protest. "Take this one out and let her go," he ordered one of the guards, who silently did as he was told. "And you and I need to talk, Berina. Somewhere private."

"Good idea," Berina said, striving to make her voice brave. At least it didn't tremble. "Kekil, this scheme of yours is madness. All of Denobula is watching."

"You know my name," Kekil said, sounding surprised. "And of course all of Denobula is watching. That's the point. Come on."

She couldn't help but follow him, of course, because he still had her arm. He tugged her out of the conference room. "I think there's an empty room through here," Kekil said as they headed down a short corridor. Before Berina could ask him where Hermat was, a door opened and a woman stepped out. Berina stopped dead, mouth hanging open in surprise. It was the woman who had been executed--the woman who had been shot in the head. But here she stood, perfectly undamaged. Berina could see what looked like blood spattered down her right side.

"How--how--" Berina stuttered.

"Who's this, Hermat?" the woman asked.

"Kekil," Kekil corrected wearily.

"Sorry. Kekil. Who's this? One of the hostages?"

"I'm Berina. I knew Kekil from the time of my Unveiling," Berina offered. "But--but I saw you die."

The woman grinned. "I'm studying theater at the university in Foretrea's capital city. Want to guess my specialty?"

Berina, at a loss for words, could only shake her head.

The woman leaned in. "Stage makeup," she whispered. She continued, amused, "Convincing, huh? A small explosive charge, a wig concealing a packet of fake blood--I can show you sometime, if you want. But I'm also a really, really good actress."

Berina had seen that for herself. "I believe it. So no one has actually been killed?"

"Of course not," Kekil said. "What do you take us for?"

"Terrorists," Berina said honestly.

"Well, as you can see, no one's been hurt," the woman said.

Berina considered. "I think I understand. You make your point, you capture everyone's attention, but none of you is exiled. After all, no real harm has been done."

"I like her," the woman told Kekil, as though Berina weren't standing right there. "Smart."

"You'll be imprisoned for this, you have to know that," Berina said. The knowledge that no one had actually been killed filled her with relief. They wouldn't kill her. They probably had no intention of killing the hostages. They'd give up tomorrow, at the deadline, their point made.

Kekil responded, eyes earnestly searching hers, almost as if he pleaded for her understanding. "We're willing to take that chance, to draw attention to the problem. Everyone on the continent has now heard of the Sons of Denobula." He sighed. "Come. I'll explain everything." He pulled open the door the woman had just closed behind her.

"Not in there, Herm--Kekil," she called, but it was too late: Kekil had pushed Berina ahead of him, and the room wasn't empty.

"What now?" a Tellarite demanded peevishly.

* * *

"What's that?" Hylea demanded sharply, staring at the viewscreen on _Enterprise_ 's bridge.

Archer suppressed a sigh. He'd hoped that Hylea would want to stay in sickbay with Phlox while Phlox put the finishing touches on his Denobulan nerve gas, but somehow she had ended up on the bridge, and Archer didn't have the heart to send her to Phlox's quarters.

Although he didn't regret the cancellation of his dinner appointment--he'd rather eat Chef's leftovers than tuck into another huge meal--he didn't like the reason. Reed was examining the building's ventilation plans and refining their plan of attack, and Tucker was in engineering, figuring out a delivery system. T'Pol was researching the Sons of Denobula, and meanwhile, the clock was ticking down. He couldn't stop thinking about the eyes of the executed woman--her terror and helplessness. The whole event struck him as simply un-Denobulan. But as Phemal had reminded him, he was used to offworld Denobulans, not rabid isolationists.

"Captain!" Hylea cried, real urgency in her voice. She pointed to the viewscreen, which played one of the broadcasts of the crisis on the steps of the Office of Offworld Affairs. "That's Berina!"

"What?" Archer levered himself out of the captain's chair.

"They just took Berina inside!" Hylea turned panicked eyes to him. "Replay it," she ordered. "If we could get in closer, see her face--"

"Hoshi, please replay it." Archer stepped close to Hylea, offering his support.

"Aye, Captain." Sato manipulated her console. "Do you want sound?"

"Not right now." Archer gazed at the screen, and a moment later, the image changed. Archer and Hylea watched as one of the terrorists ran down the steps and out of the view of the camera. A few seconds later, he returned, dragging a dark-haired girl beside him.

Hylea clutched his arm. "That's definitely Berina." She pointed. "She's wearing her white shawl. That's probably what caught their attention."

"Magnify," Archer rapped out, and Sato froze an image of the woman's face and enlarged it. As the image flipped, the woman's face growing larger and less clear, Archer's heart sank.

"That's definitely Berina," Hylea said, echoing Archer's thoughts. "Oh, dear." She sounded very worried--as well she might, Archer thought. "They took her inside, didn't they?"

"I'll replay it with sound," Sato said.

She looped it back a bit, and they watched as once again the terrorist pulled Berina across a walkway and up the steps. A woman's voice said, "Let's see--I'm not sure what's happening--they're taking someone inside, a young woman..." Then Berina turned her pale, frightened face to face the camera and shouted, "Let one go! I'll be a hostage in his place!" The announcer's voice-over continued, "She's offering herself in place of one of the hostages. Brave woman! For those of you just tuning in, terrorists have taken hostages at the Office of Offworld Affairs to protest Denobula's opening negotiations with Earth. There is one confirmed dead, although the body was dragged into the building, which has slowed identification. After the attacks at Alpha Centauri--"

The sound cut off abruptly as Sato responded to Archer's gesture.

"Let's see what's going on in real time," Archer ordered, and Sato nodded. The viewscreen flipped to the now-familiar view of the stone steps. Archer thumbed the communications button on the captain's chair. "Doctor Phlox, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, please report to the bridge immediately," he ordered.

"Nothing seems to be happening," Hylea worried.

"That's probably good," Archer murmured, and she shot him a grateful glance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Reed reach his station. "And that was smart of her, yelling something so she'd be sure to catch our attention."

"She knows about the attack we're planning," Hylea said. "If they get that information out of her--"

"We'll just have to move up the timetable," Archer said reassuringly as Tucker and Phlox stepped out of the lift together. "We've got a problem," he told them before they could speak, and he quickly filled them in. But before he could finish briefing them, Hylea gasped, "Something's going on."

"They're letting a hostage go," Sato reported, finger pressed against her earpiece.

Archer watched as the woman's bonds were cut and she was escorted down the steps. "I guess they took Berina up on their offer." He turned to Tucker. "How's the delivery system?"

"Done," Tucker said. "Malcolm and I came up with a plan. We're going to transport the canisters into the main ventilation area, but we transport them a half a meter off the ground. Then they fall the rest of the way." He clapped his hands together in illustration. "When they hit the ground, it activates the gas delivery system. Now, we could just transport them right in where they are, because it would be activated before they knew what hit 'em, but it takes a few minutes to work and we don't want them to toss the canisters outside."

Reed picked up the plan next. "Exactly four minutes after we transport the canisters, we relay an order to the sharpshooters standing by in the windows of the building across the square. They shoot tranquilizer darts into the two men patrolling out front. I've also assigned MACOs to the crowd. They're undercover, and they're all armed with phase pistols. They've been in the crowd for two hours now. If anything happens out there, or if the tranquilizer darts don't work, they can take care of it." Thank goodness it was cold--the clearly non-Denobulan MACOs were wrapped in warm clothing, mufflers, and hats that helped conceal their alien faces.

"Why not just use your phase pistols in the first place?" Hylea asked.

"The range is too limited," Reed explained. "We weren't able to get in close enough for a clean shot. We don't want to draw their attention or tip them off. We need everything to happen simultaneously, and we don't want anyone in the crowd to get hurt."

"Don't worry, Hylea, dear," Phlox soothed. He patted Hylea's hand comfortingly as she wound her arm around Phlox's. She'd been remarkly quiet, Archer thought. "The gas won't hurt Berina--if we can limit the exposure to a half hour or less." At her expression, he quickly added, "Mister Tucker will flush the ventilation system. I assure you, dear, no one will be permanently injured."

"I wish there were a way to clear the crowd," Reed fretted. "They're the biggest obstacle to the success of our plan. If I were in charge of this hostage situation, I would have put a few sympathizers in the crowd to keep an eye on things. If anybody outside is in communication with those inside--" He trailed off.

"We should get clearance and head down to the planet now," Tucker suggested.

"Wait," Sato said sharply, and everyone fell silent and looked at her. When she used that tone of voice, it meant something important was happening. Archer knew better than to interrupt her as she frowned and manipulated her console. "Incoming transmission," she said after a long few seconds. "It's on the dedicated frequency that Starfleet uses to relay medical emergencies." She pressed something on her console, and sound filled the bridge.

"--to _Enterprise,_ this is Berina," a woman's whispered voice said. 

"Thank goodness," Hylea said. "Oh, thank goodness. She's alive."

Berina's hushed voice continued. "I know you can't respond. Just listen. I'm in the Office of Offworld Affairs. There's a Tellarite here. I repeat, there's a Tellarite. The execution was faked. I don't think they're going to kill the hostages. They weren't planning on it, anyway. But now that I know there's a Tellarite--I'm not sure what's going on."

Another voice, this time a man's, took over. "This is Kekil. I didn't realize we were being used. I'm not sure what's going on, but I think Teroin and Lisel do." His tone of voice changed, to uncertainty. "Are they getting this?"

"I don't know--it's outgoing only." Berina's voice rose, and Archer's heart sank. "They've found us. Phlox-ix, if you can hear this--"

"My dear Berina," Phlox murmured hopelessly as a crash sounded, then screams, and the unmistakable sound of energy weapons fire. Then the sound abruptly cut off.

"I don't think we're going to have time to get down to the planet by shuttle," Tucker said after a long moment.

"The gas won't work on Tellarites," Phlox said.

Hylea demanded, "Someone please do something. You heard that! She's in trouble!"

"Execute the plan from _Enterprise,_ " Archer ordered. "Now." He wheeled to face T'Pol. "Inform Phemal of Tellarite involvement, and find out whether any Tellarites who might have an interest in breaking off Earth-Denobulan ties are on Denobula."

"Aye, Captain," T'Pol said, turning to her station.

* * *

Reed closed his eyes when Tucker said, "Energize." He wished they could have come up with some other brilliant way to get down to the planet, perhaps involving some fancy flying by Travis Mayweather, but because speed was of the essence, they'd had to transport.

"Malcolm?" Tucker whispered a second later.

"Are we there?" Reed opened his eyes into a half-light. Reed could see the sky and the reflection of street lights through uncurtained windows. He waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. "Chang. Cummings. Feldman," he demanded, and he heard the MACOs he'd drafted for this operation murmur, "Aye."

"The gas was delivered two minutes ago," Tucker said quietly. Reed didn't need to be reminded: he knew how tight the schedule was. They had two or three minutes to get downstairs. They weren't sure what the Tellarite would do when the Denobulans started slumping over, unconscious.

"I sure hope Phlox was right about the gas not affecting humans," Tucker worried.

"Not humans, and not Tellarites. That's what Phlox said," Reed responded. He turned to the MACOs as Tucker drew out his communicator and contacted _Enterprise_ with the news that they'd gotten in safely. "All right. We're in the Office of Offworld Affairs, third floor." He hadn't had time to brief them before they'd gotten on the transporter pad. "Commander Tucker is going to find the utility room where we transported the canisters. He's going to flush the gas out of the ventilation system in about ten minutes. We find and immobilize the Sons of Denobula. We should have unconscious Denobulans everywhere, mostly concentrated on the ground floor in a rear conference room. We're looking for at least one Tellarite, perhaps more. We think that there are nineteen hostages, including Berina, if the Sons told us the truth about how many people were in the building. But don't count on that number being correct. We think Berina might be hurt, so keep your eye out for her. Check in directly with _Enterprise_ if you see her--Doctor Phlox is standing by. One person transports up with her and stays to debrief the captain. Phase pistols are set on stun. Got it?"

"Got it," Chang said alertly, and the other two MACOs muttered assent also.

Tucker pocketed his communicator and turned to join them. "Done. _Enterprise_ is standing by. Let's go."

Reed took point, phase pistol drawn. He'd spent a lot of time with the building's plans when he'd assessed it for the best places to deliver the gas, so he had no trouble finding the stairs. Luckily, huge windows let in just enough light to see, although they had to duck underneath them in case the building was under surveillance by the Sons of Denobula. Everything inside was eerily quiet, although he could hear traffic noise and what he thought was the noise of the crowd from outside.

When they stood at the foot of the stairs, ready to enter the first floor, Reed checked the time. The sharpshooters should have fired thirty seconds ago, he figured. If everything had gone according to plan, then the Denobulans should all be unconscious, and the MACOs in the crowd, along with security forces Phemal had provided, would secure the front of the building.

Time to go in.

Reed slid through first, followed by Tucker. The MACOs brought up the rear. They immediately fanned out. Reed headed for the corridor, and Tucker and Chang headed the other way, Chang for the conference room and Tucker to search for the utility area, which hadn't been clearly marked on the plans. The moment Reed rounded the corner, he came face to face with a figure wearing something over his face--a gas mask, Reed realized belatedly as he brought his weapon up. He fired just as the figure ducked and rushed him, but the shot went wide.

"Teroin!" he gasped as Teroin tackled him.

"Interfering aliens!" Teroin yelled, voice muffled through the mask.

"What about the Tellarite?" Reed demanded, breathless as he kicked at Teroin. "Or do you just take help where you can find it?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he grabbed Teroin's mask and tried to rip it off. He managed to pull it askew--and it would have to do, he thought, because Teroin showed no signs of slowing up. Reed delivered another well-placed kick and wiggled free. He threw open the nearest door and ducked inside, then turned, maneuvering to get a better shot at Teroin.

Teroin fired at Reed, who was without cover. Reed dove behind a desk, the shot barely missing him. Reed looked over the desk, aimed, and fired. Teroin swayed for a long moment before he fell heavily onto his side.

Reed kicked away Teroin's weapon before he knelt by the unconscious figure, removed the mask, and rolled Teroin onto his stomach. He pulled restraints from a pocket of his uniform and quickly trussed Teroin up, binding his hands and feet. Were gas masks something that all Denobulan buildings had? Or was it just part of the kit the Sons of Denobula had brought along? In any case, they could probably expect more resistance than they'd anticipated.

Reed grinned mirthlessly. He'd seen the MACOs in action. He was confident they could quell any resistance.

Out in the hallway, things were eerily quiet. He checked the rest of the rooms along the corridor, including quick sweeps under pieces of furniture and in closets. Reed found two unconscious Denobulans, a man and a woman. As he bound the woman and dragged her near the doorway so they could be easily found and picked up, he looked at her face. Even in the bad light, he recognized her: the woman who'd taken the shot, still alive, just as Berina had said.

"It's clear," he heard a MACO call, and Reed headed for the stairwell.

"Clear through here," Reed reported. "Two Denobulans." He pointed at Cummings and Feldman as they approached. "Next floor up. Go."

As they exited into the stairwell, Tucker hurried up. "I counted eighteen hostages in the conference room. And all of them are snoring. Chang is with them now."

"Berina?" Reed asked.

Tucker shook his head. "I didn't find her. She wasn't in with the other hostages. Should I let in the MACOs waiting outside?"

"No. The building's not secure." He held up a hand. "Wait. Listen."

"Weapons fire!" Tucker exclaimed, heading for the stairwell.

"I guess they found something," Reed muttered. "No!" He pushed against Tucker's chest, stopping him from heading up the stairs. "Find the utility room!"

"Phlox said they'd be fine with a half-hour of exposure," Tucker argued. "We have fifteen more minutes. Look, stop arguing, would you? I'll watch your back."

Tucker and Reed raced upstairs. Because their presence was no longer a secret, Reed hit the lights as they entered the second floor, and in the sudden glare, he saw one MACO down, the other struggling with a Denobulan wearing a gas mask. And there--at long last--was a Tellarite, weapon pointed right at them.

Reed didn't hesitate, and neither did Tucker. Two phase pistols fired almost in unison, and the Tellarite's shot went wide before he fell to his knees.

"Find Berina!" he snapped to Tucker, who immediately began checking rooms.

He quickly trussed up the Tellarite, who wasn't unconscious, despite being hit by two weapons, although he although clearly disoriented and stunned. "Any more of you?" Reed asked conversationally, not really expecting an answer. He didn't get one.

"Malcolm, she's in here!" Tucker yelled.

Reed gave the ankle bindings a savage yank to tighten them and rose to his feet. On his way to join Tucker, he glanced at the Denobulan, gas mask now removed, a MACO sitting on him as he trussed him, and saw a familiar face: the Denobulan Berina had identified at the museum. Kekil--or was it Hermat? He found Tucker a moment later, leaning over Berina and, to Reed's surprise, a young Denobulan man who looked exactly like the one in the hallway: the other twin. He glimpsed burns, blood, and torn clothing.

"How are they?" he demanded.

Tucker shook his head. "I don't know. I think he's dead. I can't find a pulse, anyway. Berina's still breathing but she took some weapons fire. His body was over hers--I think he took the shot."

Reed turned to the door. "Hold on. Feldman's hurt, but not badly. I'll bring him in here. He should go up with them. You need to find the utility room."

"Hurry," Tucker urged. "She doesn't look good."

It only took a few seconds, but it seemed like longer. The clock was ticking, and Berina's life was at stake. When a groaning Feldman was deposited next to Berina and the other Denobulan, Reed pulled out his communicator. "Three to beam up. Medical emergency."

As they shimmered out of existence, Reed took a deep breath. "Find the ventilation system," he told Tucker. "I'll mop up here."

* * *

Phlox sat next to the biobed next to the unconscious Berina. Hylea had finally consented to go to the mess hall to get something to eat. Phlox found himself missing her presence. They didn't need to speak. They both sat quietly and watched Berina's chest rise and fall. On the bed next to Berina lay a shrouded figure, the white sheet pulled up over the face in the human style, to indicate death: Kekil's body, which would be shuttled to Kekil's family on Denobula tomorrow.

Phlox's eyes automatically checked the readouts that told him everything about Berina's medical status except the single thing that he wanted to know: whether she would live. The surgery had taken several hours. She'd taken oblique fire in the abdomen, and she had required extensive repair and implantation of an artificial kidney. She had lost a lot of blood. She had been thrown into an impossible situation and had behaved bravely. He was proud of her.

"I don't think anybody has told you what has happened. Well, of course the situation has been handled," he told her unmoving form conversationally. "Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker secured the inside of the building, and all the hostages are fine. We had a very good plan--oh, but of course you know all about it, because you were in Phemal's office when we thought of it. Everything went just as it was supposed to, although you weren't supposed to be inside. Oh, and we didn't know about the Tellarite until you told us. That was quite brave and clever of you, to send us a message on the emergency medical frequency. I imagine Kekil helped you once he realized that the Sons of Denobula had something to do with an offworlder." He smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead. "Kekil died, I'm afraid. He saved your life by throwing himself in front of weapons fire. You didn't take its full force. Is he the one you slapped for being rude to you, or was it his brother?

"We found his brother, by the way, and Teroin, and a few others. They're being interrogated on Denobula by some very angry people. The Tellarite will not speak to anyone, because he is a Tellarite, but Phemal thinks that he--or a Tellarite faction, or some such--were trying to break up a potential alliance between Denobula and Tellar. Phemal is researching all that. He's quite angry, of course, because Tellar has long been an ally of Denobula. They've managed to keep the Tellarite's presence a secret. Phemal is taking care of the press. The Sons of Denobula have been arrested for taking hostages. I suppose the only good thing is that the public seems to think that the talks should go on, because so few people agree with the idea of taking hostages."

He sighed as he looked at Berina's unresponsive form. How he wished she were laughing again, or asking him about human customs!

Phlox gently clasped her hand and held it. "Your mother will be back soon, and your father is coming on board. He'll be here in an hour or so."

He paused. He didn't know what else he could say, but the right words finally came.

"I love you," he said to the quietness of the room.

And then he felt a slight squeeze from Berina's hand. Without opening her eyes, a sound came from Berina's lips, very weakly. 

"I love you too, Phlox-ix."

Then all was quiet again.

Phlox smiled. He knew now that everything was going to be all right.


End file.
